Summary: A nighttime conversation between our favorite benders about masks, pretending and trust leads into something entirely different.

Rating: K+

Word count:4197

A/N: Zutara Week is finally here! :) I am soooo excited :) It's the first time I ever publish something in this fandom, but this story in definitely not my first work. I hope you'll enjoy it :) Note: I am not a native speaker, and it has not been beta'd by one either. I proof-read it, so I hope I didn't left too many mistakes in it :)

Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you that I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender]

Masks We Wear

One surprisingly cool and pleasant night found them on the veranda of the Fire Lord's abandoned beach house. The others had long gone to sleep, but the two of them just sat there, actually only inches away from each other, legs dangling from the balcony, chins resting on the railing, eyes staring out to the sea.

It was nice how well they were getting on now, after everything – after Ba Sing Se, after Yon Rah. They were like two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together effortlessly. That's how they spent their evening: effortlessly. After dinner was taken care of, they engaged in a friendly conversation, flipping from to topic to topic, retelling old stories, which seemed to shine in a brand-new light.

"…And then we, along with all the people who live there, cleared the river, and honestly, it was giving a new life to the village!" Katara said animatedly. For the last ten minutes or so she had been presenting the quite detailed version of her adventure of impersonating the Painted Lady. "And then, that evening, when I went to the river to wash up…" Her voice faltered a little, and she looked sideways shyly. "Ah, never mind. You wouldn't believe me, anyway."

"Why would you say that?" He inquired. "Now, come on Katara. Don't you trust me?" This sentence earned him a pointed glare. "Okay, that wasn't too convincing, I admit." She smiled – it was ridiculous that he was the one to ask that, even though they were over their trust issues. In theory. "I promise I won't laugh whatever it is." It seemed to convince her, because she continued.

"So, I went to the river, washed my face, then I looked up – and she was there. The Painted Lady. The real Painted Lady." An unreadable, pleasant expression dominated her face. "And she just… she just thanked me. This simply." She shrugged, as if saying that it really wasn't that big deal, even if it was.

"That's… wow. That's great, Katara." Zuko said after his initial surprise, then, despite himself, he let out an unamused laugh.

"Hey!" She playfully smacked his arm. "You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"Don't get me wrong, I am not laughing at you. I am laughing at myself. I imagined what would have happened if I met the spirit I was impersonating."

Katara looked at him with huge, confused eyes. Apparently, she no idea what he was talking about.

"The spirit you were…? Zuko, what do you mean?"

"Oh, so Aang didn't tell you that." He scratched the back of his head. He didn't expect this. "I thought he did, sorry."

"Told me what?" Katara asked a little sharply; she didn't like when things were kept from her.

"It doesn't matter." If Aang didn't tell Katara and the others about the time when he was captured by Zhao, he must had had the reasons to do so, and Zuko didn't want to interfere. Let the monk to handle his own life. But he saw that Katara still wanted to go on with the topic, so he quickly turned the discussion to another direction. "So… I assume, when you were in the Earth Kingdom, you heard about the Blue Spirit?" He asked carefully.

"Of course." Katara responded. "The whole Earth Kingdom wanted to get a hold on him. His wanted posters were all over even in Ba…" She stopped mid-sentence as she realized what they were talking about. "That was you." She stated.

"The one and only." He said a little smugly.

"But… how? And why?"

He looked away from her, fixing his gaze at the sea.

"You did everything to help others. I did everything to help myself. When I got tired of begging, I put up the mask, and go what I needed." He sighed. "No, it's not the truth. I got everything I thought I needed. Everything I thought I deserved."

"So you stole."

"And robbed. And terrorized a few people." He deliberately left out that he also helped Aang escape from Zhao and that he was the one who freed Appa. "But it's not just I needed an alias to get my way." He sighed; he didn't usually open up that easily. Katara watched him, eager to know what he had to say. He didn1t want to elaborate, to tell her more, but at the same time, he wanted to pour his whole soul to her. Finally, the second emotion won, and he continued, but his tone suddenly changed. Until that point it was light and teasing, but from then, it turned distant and brooding. "It's just… it's just easier to wear masks sometimes, you know?"

"No, I don't." She said quietly. "I mean… It really was easier helping those people when they thought that I was the Painted Lady, but…"

"No, you really don't know." He cut in, not letting her to finish the sentence. "You always get to be yourself – there's nobody you should hide yourself from. You have nothing in you to conceal." True – she was pure, and wonderful, and altogether good. She had nothing to hide, unlike him.

"Zuko."

"No, please, let me finish." He still refused to look into her eyes. "Ever since my mother has been taken from my life, all I have been doing is wearing masks – actual and theoretical ones. Ever since then there has always been somebody I had to put on an act for. If not my father, then my crew or every other people around me. For my father, I played the obedient son, because I thought I needed his love." He stopped abruptly, as if realizing that he had said something wrong. "No. my father doesn't love anybody or anything. I needed his acceptance – that's more correct." He sighed. Saying this out loud must have pained him, and Katara was filled with sympathy for the young prince. "Then with my crew, I had to be strict. Ruthless. I admit, it was close to my real self, but still, it wasn't completely me. I also feared that if I had showed them my vulnerable side, they wouldn't have obeyed me."

Katara wanted to say something to comfort him, but she didn't have a chance, because he went on.

"And it's ironic, because when I had live as somebody else, under the name Lee in Ba Sing Se, that was the time when I got to be myself the most." He let out a humorless chuckle. "See? I am more like Lee than Zuko. Lee didn't have to pretend what he liked, who he liked. He got to be himself. Only, he wasn't himself.

"Then it was the worst when I was back at the capitol. Before then, I had at least uncle to confide in. In the palace, I was completely alone with my shame and anger. And, of course, in stead of doing something useful, something right, I played the prince again."

"But you are a prince" Katara said, but Zuko pretended not to have heard it. He was still looking at the ocean, like he was all alone on the island.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Katara gathered her courage, and put her hand briefly on Zuko's shoulder. The prince turned slightly to her direction.

"Then I think it's a really good thing that you are finally with us. Now there's no reason why you should pretend. You don't have to wear masks here."

At this, Zuko made a sound which was somewhere between a snort and a chuckle.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really. Never mind." Zuko said, but he wasn't at all convincing.

"Zuko…" her voice was a little threatening behind her concern. After all those months spent with Sokka, Toph and Aang, her maternal instincts were at their strongest, and she wanted to help everybody, including the somewhat sullen prince.

"I told you to leave it alone." His voice was almost pleading. "Let's just say that the fact that I am staying with you guys doesn't mean that I don't have to wear my masks anymore. And it's not something that I could tell you, anyway."

"Zuko…" she started sharply. "Answer me one simple question: are we friends or not?"

"Of course we are." Then he added, as if to confirm it: "We are friends." He put soft, unnecessary stress on the last word.

"Then you can tell me anything." Katara said haughtily, then continued in a softer tone, touching his bare forearm. " I know you haven't had too much experience of having real friends before, but it's time you realize that we are here for you, and you can tell us what's hurting you, no matter what is it." She looked into his eyes and saw there how touched he was by her words.

"Thank you, Katara." His voice was barely more than a whisper as he again turned his head away from her. "But it's really something I can't tell you. Especially you. That would mess up everything."

"That's what I am talking about!" She said, exasperated, throwing her hands to the air. "I also say a lot of things that mess up everything to my friends, but then we team up, and get hold of that mess."

He smiled to himself at the choice of her words. It was just a soft upward movement of the ends of his mouth, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"You are really… cute, when you say things like that." He said, what brought a soft blush to her cheeks. "But thanks, no. Believe me when I say that this is the best if this… mask, never comes off."

With that, he announced the topic closed. At least he hoped that Katara would leave him alone about it from now on. But she didn't. We could say that her only goal was to help him, but that would only be partially true. Because Katara was a woman, and so curious by nature, and she really wanted to know what was bothering him.

"Does it have anything to do with your… with Ozai?" She asked carefully. She had learned quickly, that if something was tormenting Zuko, then it usually had to do something with his father. So she was rather surprised when he let out a dry laugh.

"No, not at all." He said. "But he wouldn't be over the Moon about it, I am sure."

"Then your uncle?" She didn't give up.

"Now, I think he would be quite happy about it."

She was about to run out of questions.

"Then… maybe with Aang?" She said it like she was afraid to ask, but it seemed to hit home, because he sighed, and hung his head down.

"Not directly, but… but yes, it concerns him, I suppose. I think it really concerns him."

Ice-cold horror took over her. All she understood from the situation was that Zuko was keeping something from them that could either help or hurt Aang. Aang, the Avatar, on whom all of their lives and the fate of the three – four, really – nations depended.

"Then you must tell me. Zuko, if it can hurt Aang-"

"It will hurt him if I tell you. But it won't, if I keep my mouth shut." Katara didn't listen to him, just kept talking.

"I understand how much you keep to yourself, and that you don't want to talk about it-"

"Katara, you don't understand-"

"But you can't keep on keeping secrets from us, especially-"

She couldn't finish the sentence, because the next thing she knew was Zuko turning to face her – everything happened in a blink of an eye – cupping her chin in one hand, and then he was kissing her.

She had been kissed before, but only by Aang, and that was, well… clumsy. Aang never wanted to kiss her, really kiss her, he just always pressed his lips to hers, almost roughly, not waiting for her reaction, but never moving himself either. If it was because of his less than little experience or total lack of talent, she didn't know. What she did know was though, that Zuko's lips on hers were warm and soft and slightly wet, and touched her lightly, almost like a feather, and they were moving slowly, wetting her chapped lips, not forcing, but wanting her to relax, to lean into the kiss, to return the kiss.

It felt good. It felt great.

But it ended way too soon.

Zuko pulled away from her, slightly flushed, faint color on his usually pale cheeks, breathing uneven, and apparent pain in his eyes.

"See? This happens when I don't mask my feelings, don't mask myself. I do a lot of foolish things out of pure selfishness, not thinking about the consequences, and I hurt a lot of people."

Then without saying anything else, even goodnight, he got up, and walked away, leaving the shocked Katara there, sitting on the balcony, legs dangling from the edges, eyes big with disbelief, fingers rested gently against her lips.

She must talk with Zuko tomorrow.

But it wasn't that easy, because, as it turned out, he tried to avoid her at all costs.

He had woken before her, but it wasn't out of norm – he really did rise with the sun. But when she looked after him unsuccessfully, and asked the others if they had seen him, they informed her that he was meditating in the backyard, and he had asked them not to disturb him unless it was a life-death question. He also skipped breakfast, and when he did emerge, he did for only that much time until he told Aang that it was time for their practice, which then went on for hours, even through lunchtime. When they finished, he grabbed his dao swords, and asked Sokka if he wanted to go hunting with him. He, of course, said yes, and so the two of them disappeared for the better part of the afternoon.

Katara tried not to worry about this – she kept saying herself that he had to go hungry sooner or later, and then he would go to her. Also, he couldn't risk the others notice the change in his demeanor. Therefore, he had to show up for dinner, she speculated.

She was right: Zuko and Sokka had returned to the beach house not much after sundown. They had only caught a toucan-puff and a small fox antelope, but it was expected – on a small island like Ember Island, which had way too many tourist on it to disturb the fauna, it was almost impossible to find a good game.

Katara made the others wait for their return, and they sat down to eat as soon as the two self-proclaimed hunters washed up.

Thorough the meal, Zuko acted quite normally. He didn't talk much, but smiled at Toph's witty remarks and helped Sokka in recalling their almost-encounter with a creature that Sokka presumed was a wild komodo rhino. But as she watched him – oh, she watched him as much as she dared – she saw that he spoke to Aang as little as possible, and even then his voice had a small, almost undetectable shameful undertone – or was she just imagining it? – and avoided her gaze completely.

But she had to talk to him – they had to set the things what had gone wrong last night right – or at least what he thought had gone wrong. Her chance arrived when they finished eating and started to gather the dirty dishes together.

"Zuko, please, could you help me?" She called to him, trying not to sound cold or angry or menacing, but trying to get the 'we need to talk' message to him as well. It was also the first time she had directly spoken to him since the previous night.

"Um…" She obviously caught him a little unpleasantly off-guard. "Sorry, Katara, but I-"

"It was not a request you could refuse." She didn't let him finis the sentence. "I really need you."

I need you, she'd said, not 'I need your help'. He sighed defeated, got up, and without being asked, took the dirty plates from her hands. Together they walked away from the others around the fire, into the unused kitchen.

When they stepped inside, the room was completely dark, save from the soft light of the moon pouring in from the high sitting windows. He placed the plates on the counter, then with a few well-coordinated movements, he lit the oil lamps in the corners. He turned to her, waiting. He seemed to be ready for anything, like a soldier going to battle.

But her recent boldness which had manifested next to the campfire had evaporated as soon as it came. She stepped past him, stood beside the counter and started to pump water to the sink; when there was enough for washing the dishes, Zuko dipped his hand wordlessly into it to warm the water for her. She turned towards him, and rewarded him with a grateful little smile. Then she grabbed the first plate, and started working soundlessly. As much as she wanted to talk to him before, she couldn't find the words now. When she finished with the plate, she handed it to Zuko, who took it just as silently.

How to start?

It was he who, finally, broke the ice.

"I thought you wanted to talk."

"Yes." She sighed, gathering her courage. "About yesterday-"

"I am sorry." He didn't wait for her to finish the sentence.

"What?"

"I said I am sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have kissed you. I was just, I think, so caught up in the moment, that… never mind. It was stupid of me, end of the story." He spoke quietly, and fixed his gaze on the bowl in his hands rather than on her.

"Don't be." She murmured.

"What?" He looked at her.

"Don't be sorry. It was… quite nice, actually. I liked it."

"Really? But I thought… you were so motionless, so unresponsive, I thought…"

"Well, you pretty much caught me off-guard, you see." She let out a soft almost-chuckle. Then she, again, turned her head from him, while a soft blush painted her cheeks. "This, and that… well, nobody has ever kissed me like that before." She said shyly, not trusting her own voice.

"How many…?" He asked carefully, looking at her profile in the flickering light of the oil lamps, letting the end of the question hang in the air.

"Only Aang. Twice. And it was never me who started it." She didn't know why, but she thought she had to add this little piece of information. She took a short break, then continued. "And they were nothing like your kiss. And they were… they were kind of forced. Like he was kissing me only for himself. Does it make any sense?" She turned her gaze on him, waiting for confirmation.

"Yes, it does." He said finally. "But where does it leave us?"

"I honestly don't know." She wanted to turn her head, but she was simply unable to tear her gaze from him. "But…" Her voice faltered. Zuko was still looking at her intensely, waiting to hear what she had to say. "But I like you. I like spending time with you. And when you kiss me, it feels nice. It feels right." She sighed. He stood there unmoving, anticipating, hopeful. "Look, I don't know how it works. I have never done it before. But if the war is over-"

"When the war is over." He corrected her automatically.

"When the war is over, and we are both alive, I'd like to try it with you. A relationship, I mean."

He wanted to shout and jump and pick her up and swirl her around and kiss her in his joy. But he restrained himself and asked her instead:

"And what about Aang?" The pain was apparent in his voice. He wasn't blind. He knew how the Avatar felt for Katara – of course, there had to be someone in his way. Katara took a step away from him, feeling ashamed of herself.

"He is a sweet kid, and I love him, but I can't imagine myself being with him that way. I told him that I might give him a chance after the war – please, hear me out." She said when she saw that he wanted to cut in. "But looking at the things now, it was a foolish thing to do. A mistake. I might be selfish, but I don't want… don't want to be in a relationship with him. I don't want to kiss him, and hold him, and… do other things. Even if it means that I'll break his heart."

"It's not selfishness, it's completely right." He put his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to turn to face him. "Katara, you can't sacrifice everything – sacrifice yourself, your happiness – for the others. I know that you're trying to, but believe me, it will just leave you miserable in the end." While he spoke, she put her small, delicate hand over his.

"Thank you." She smiled. Her uneasiness was gone. "But there's something I'd like to know: how long?" She didn't have to say the full sentence; he understood what she was talking about perfectly.

"You mean the physical attraction, or the genuine feelings?"

"Both." He sighed, a soft smile playing on his lips. He let his hand fall from her shoulder, intending to finish the dishes, but she grasped it, so in the end their intertwined hands hung in midair.

"Well, for the attraction part, I think it has been there ever since the beginning. Ever since-"

"Ever since the pirates." She finished for him.

"Exactly." He smiled. "As for the other, I can't point out one definite date. I think have grown to l-" He wasn't ready to say it out loud. Not yet.

"I see." She understood him completely, and she didn't want him to say it, either. Not yet.

Silence fell upon them as they stood facing each other, hands clasped together, in the dimly lit kitchen, their only witnesses the dishes.

"So… after the war?" Zuko said. It was not quite a statement, but not quite a question, either.

"After the war we are going to give us a chance. It might work out, might not. We'll see." She said with more confidence than she felt. Zuko nodded.

"And what about Aang?" He echoed his earlier question. They almost didn't even realize that they were still holding hands.

"Let me deal with him." She said after a moment of silence.

"No." He contradicted her instantly. "If he has to hate somebody, then let it be me."

She didn't argue with that – she really didn't want Aang to hate her.

"Alright. So… after the war is over." She nodded at her own words, as if confirming them.

"I'll be waiting for you, no matter how long I will have to wait." With that he brought her hand to his lips and gave it a small peck, like he was sealing his promise and their agreement with it. It was a foolish thing to say, to do, but they were young, so young, and frightened of the future.

He let go of her hand, and was about the turn away from her and finish the dishes, but then she spoke again.

"Wait. I have a condition first." She said it calmly, but it still scared him a little; but he nodded, encouraging her to go on. She took a deep breath. "No more masks. No more pretending. I don't care… I don't care about the Fire Nation prince, or Lee, not even about the Blue Spirit. I care only about you, Zuko, my-" She didn't know how to finish the sentence – he was more than her friend now, but was not her love yet -, but he saw it in her eyes and understood it. "I want you to know that you can trust me, confide in me. You don't have to bear all you problems all alone. Let me help you, okay?" As she spoke she raised her hand up to his cheek, and ever so lightly traced the outline of his scar. He closed his eyes, and almost leaned into her touch.

"I can do that. I'll do that for you. No more pretending." He promised.

With that, they let go of each other, stepped to the sink with the now cool water in it, and finished the dishes together.

Nothing really had changed between them that day – at least nothing that the others noticed. After that they still trained, helped around the house, Katara made the meals, they washed the dishes together, then carried out long conversations in the evenings, they acted like simple friends towards each other, if you don't count the careful, wishful caresses of their fingertips when they handed the utensils to the other in the evenings after dinner, or the unseen glances towards each other, when no-one was watching.

One thing had really changed, though – now both of them were waiting for the comet to come. Only, they didn't anticipated the fight it would bring, but the life afterwards.